


Sherlocked

by bayoublackjack



Series: Love in London [13]
Category: Elementary (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Holmes Brothers, POV Molly Hooper, Platonic Sex, Post-Reichenbach, Sherlock Holmes & Molly Hooper Friendship, St. Bart's, Unrequited Crush, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 05:32:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2257635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bayoublackjack/pseuds/bayoublackjack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of her one night stand with Sherlock, Molly finds it hard to balance being around both detectives at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlocked

Molly moved around the lab attempting to engage in several tasks, but failing to focus her attention enough to make any real progress.  How could she concentrate with Sherlock there?  Not just one Sherlock, but both of them.  Heads down, observing specimens under their microscopes without a care in the world while Molly worked herself up into a frenzy over her one night stand with Sherlock’s brother.

Molly couldn’t stand it.  She knew their night together meant nothing, but how could Sherlock sit there so calmly?  She managed to keep it together for a fortnight because she hadn’t had to deal with them together.  Now that they were both in her laboratory running samples, she could hardly contain herself.

“Molly.”

The elder Sherlock’s voice broke what little concentration she had.  She jumped at the sound and glanced over her shoulder.  “Yes?”

“Isn’t there something you needed to do?” he asked without looking up from his microscope.

“Do?”  Molly had told him that she wanted to be the one to tell the other Sherlock about their night together, but this wasn’t exactly how she pictured it going down.  “I don’t…I mean…”  She looked towards the younger man who continued to ignore them both and focus on his work.  “Now?”

The elder Sherlock looked up briefly as he swapped one slide for another.  “You wanted to ring Dr Jones as soon as she landed.  Assuming my calculations are correct, which they most certainly are, and barring any delays, she’ll have landed six and a half minutes ago.”

“Martha.”  Molly let out a relieved sigh that he hadn’t been referring to what she thought he was.  “Yes, of course.  Thank you for reminding me.”  She stood up and pulled her mobile from her pocket.  “I’ll be right back.”  She quickly excused herself to the office so she could check in with Martha in private.

When Molly excused herself the younger of the two men looked up from his microscope.  “So that’s it,” he commented as if he had just solved a puzzle.

The elder man looked up as well.  “Up to date, are we?”

“I could tell you both had been intimate recently, but I couldn’t be sure it was with each other until I had you both in the same room.  You, of course, have managed to remain neutral.”

“Of course.”

“Molly, on the other hand, is more nervous than usual.”

“I told her you would figure it out, but she wanted to tell you herself.”  He returned his focus to the microscope.  “Use the time in between to come up with a tactful response, if you could,”

Sherlock returned to his slides as well.  “I assumed she had better taste, but you have been known to seduce strong willed women into your bed before.”

“Seduced sounds so lecherous.  I simply present myself and my intentions in a highly logical fashion tailored to highlighting the mutually beneficial aspects of such a liaison.  I’ve been turned down, but more often than not an accord is struck.”

“So you struck an accord with Sally Donovan?  Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Sherlock glanced up at his younger brother.  “DS Donovan is a pleasant and driven woman.  If you treated her and her department in a more respectful manner you might realise that fact and gain a valuable ally,” he said.  “Also…”  He returned his eyes to his work.  “She’s an adventurous lover.  Definitely worth the reprise.”

Sherlock scrunched his nose, but never took his eyes off his samples.  “I’m sure Anderson could attest to that.  Alas, I have no interest in what she does on or off the clock.”

“Would you care to hear about Molly’s performance instead?  It was only the one time.”  He paused.  “Well one  _encounter_ composed of several activities,” he amended.  “But I feel as though I could satisfactorily give a comprehensive report of my findings from that alone.”

Sherlock kept his head down up until that point, but it was obvious that his focus had shifted from the task at hand to something else.  “Why would I need to know that?”

“Need?  There is no need, brother, but you may wish to know anyway.”  The elder looked up again.  “You have feelings for her, do you not?”

At the question Sherlock finally lifted his head.  “Feelings…” he said the word with contempt.

“You hold her in high regard.  Higher than most people save for perhaps John.  She’s prone to rambling, especially about you, and there is her attachment to corpses, but that an expected coping mechanism for someone in her line of work.  Also, she’s rather appealing.  Aesthetically, I mean.  Of course, that was never your area.”

“Frivolous and superficial.  Beauty fades.  Much like those ridiculous tattoos of yours.”

The older Sherlock glanced down at his arms.  “I am long overdue for a touch up, but I’ve been distracted by matters of the heart.” He looked up again. “Shall I pencil you in for an impromptu commission?  Perhaps our Dr Hooper’s name emblazoned across your heart?”

“Forgive me if I don’t find the beauty in impregnating my skin with ink.”

“You should reconsider.  The colours would really  _pop_ with your skin tone.”  He emphasised the word ‘pop’ with a jazz hands like gesture.  “Speaking of which, you seem paler than usual.  Have you been getting enough sun?”

“Sun in London?”  The younger man scoffed.  “Your time in America has affected your humour, brother dear.”  He appraised him distastefully.  “Among other things.”

“Positively?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

“Where were we?”

“Your incessant need to mutilate yourself.”

“Ah yes!  My tattoos.  They are one of my healthier addictions.”

“Better than your sex addiction?”

“I’m not addicted to sex.  It’s a tool.  Good for the brain.  Perhaps, Molly can extend her services to you.  She’s quite eager to please and I must say that I was rather pleased with her performance.”

The younger Sherlock scowled.  “I have no need for any of her  _services_ outside of the morgue.”

“So serve yourselves  _inside_ the morgue.”

“I don’t want to be  _served_ at all.”

“Of course not because you, William, are… _you_ !”

“I am  _me_ ?  What a succinct observation!  Bravo, brother!  Your time in New York has certainly refined your skills.  Do regale me with more of your wisdom,” he replied sarcastically.

“The reasoning behind my liaison with our Dr Hooper is twofold.”  The elder Sherlock held up two fingers for emphasis.  “Firstly, transference.  Molly seeks to foster a deeper connection with you.  I served as the perfect surrogate in that I had the proper timing, temperament and name.”

“Secondly?” the younger man asked indifferently.

“To light a proverbial fire under your arse.”

Sherlock’s face twisted in confusion.  “What?”

“Research indicates that a person, in this case you, is more likely to act upon their attraction to a potential mate, Molly, once a third party is introduced.  As such…”  He gestured to himself dramatically.  “Third party.”

Sherlock opened his mouth to respond, but quickly closed it when the door opened and Molly slipped back inside.

Molly couldn’t help picking up on the tension in the air when she re-entered the room.  Every so often the two of them would get into a row and get stroppy, but this was different.  The energy was…well she couldn’t exactly place it.  Something had happened but what?

Unless. 

“Oh God,” Molly said softly as the realisation washed over her.

“Not quite,” both men answered in unison.

She looked to the younger man.  “You know?”

“I know.”

She turned to the other.  “You told him?”

“He figured it out.”

Molly groaned softly and avoided both their eyes.  “It didn’t mean anything.”

“Of course not,” the elder reiterated.

“Another notch in my brother’s belt,” the younger said and focused on his microscope.

“It wasn’t like that at all,” Molly protested.

“You wouldn’t be the first woman to fall prey to his…charms.”

“Prey?”  Molly set her jaw and stepped forward. 

“Stronger women than you have—” Sherlock stopped midsentence and looked at Molly with a hint of shock in his features.

Molly didn’t fully understand why until she noticed the redness to his cheek and felt sting in her fingers.  She glanced down at her raised had and slowly retracted it in an attempt to regain her composure.  “I’m no one’s prey,” she said as calmly as she could manage then turned on her heels to leave the room.

“Hmm.”  The elder Sherlock began once the two men were alone again.  “Shall we hold off on the tattoo then?”


End file.
